Hamleton
by asdfghjkl-pudding
Summary: HAMLET AU: For the past two weeks, a ghost has been appearing before the soldiers on graveyard duty and for two weeks, they have ignored it in hopes of it going away on it's own. Finally, someone bucked up and called John Lauren's, Prince Alexander's right hand man. Only for it to turn into a fuck of a lot more.
1. Act I Scene i

John Jay wasn't having a very good night, not in the slightest; for three reasons. The first reason being, he was on graveyard shift in the middle of the castle grounds, alone as his partner called in sick. Second reason being that it was cold as balls that night, and sometimes the uniform just didn't cover it. And lastly, there was the ghost. The same ghost that has been showing up every night for the past two weeks and is probably the reason why his partner called in sick. Coward. Of course it wasn't any ghost either, it had to be the late King, George _goddamn_ Washington.

Now naturally, when the ghost of the late King appears there's gonna be some squawking. The first time he showed up the guards decided they would lay off the booze before work, the second time he showed up, they decided they needed more sleep before shift, however, by the fifth time he'd shown up people were losing their shit. And continued to lose their shit for the next week and half until someone finally decided to do something about it. So they decided to get an outsider's opinion. And who better than to figure out if all the night shift guards are slowly losing their minds to a fast acting disease brought on from too many nights in the cold, than Prince Alexander Hamilton's questionably gay, university friend. That is to say there is probably many more qualified people than him. Speaking of which here he comes now.

"Hello, John."

"Hello, John," he mimiks back.

Lauren continues, "so I hear you have a ghost problem?"

John grimaces, most definitely regretting this already. "Well, yes, seeing as you are a scholar we thought that we would call you to see if the ghost was real."

"Well that's fucking stupid, I'm an art major in my third year, I could be on so much drugs right now, you could tell me anything and I would believe it. Have you considered calling the Ghostbusters or some shit?"

"Jesus Christ, Laurens."

Laurens shrugs, "whatever, man, so where's this ghost?"

John heaved a sigh before answering back plaintively, "he should be here soon." And just in some uncanny twist of fate or bad writing, he chose this moment to appear.

There was a moment where nothing was said and Laurens just looked on in the form of this divine beauty that seemed to shake one to one's very core before answering back a simple, "he looks pretty dead to me." Thanks, tips.

The ghost himself, stood in all his dead glory, not 5 feet away. The ghost of the most beloved King Washington, still wearing his brilliant pressed military dress. And gun still on his hip. Like a majestic eagle or something.

Lauren finally seemed to recover his wits, before turning fully to address the ghost. "Ay yo homeboy, what's good?"

John had long since lost his ability to cry after years and years of military work and the dealings with his wife. But if he could still to this day cry, then that is precisely what he would be doing right now.

Hell, even the ghost is even grimacing. And just like that King Washington's corporal body turns and leaves. John wishes he could go with him.

"Well, that was kind of fucked up. I'm pretty sure that was a real goddamn ghost."

One day, John was going to snap, so help him god. "You offended him."

"It's weird though ain'it? That our main man, G Wash, would suddenly appear before us like that. His appearance the same as it was days before his death, not a hair out of place. It almost seemed as if he was looking for something, or someone. It's very curious."

"Wow, Laurens, I'm surprised, and slightly impressed, that was probably the most insightful thing I have heard you say before." John was impressed, not even exaggerating in the slightest.

Laurens however, seemed slightly taken aback, insteading retorting with an indignant, " _I told you, I am an art major."_ Laurens took another moment to collect himself before looking around at the barren and cold area around them, squinting into the darkness. "Isn't there supposed to be like more of you guys around? Where's your partner?"

"My partner took the night off sick but, in fact there are quite a few of us around. The king has had more of us stationed around the castle and more regularly as well, on top of that ammunition and weapon creation has increased as well. The reason however is beyond me."

Laurens seems perplexed for a moment before nodding slowly, "I forgot it wasn't common knowledge, but the reason for the gear up is that America is gearing up for war."

This didn't shock John, "well when are we not."

A laugh escapes Laurens, "point taken, but as I said, King George III is kicking up trouble in Britain. Ever Since King Washington was able to kick out the rest of British soldiers out of american territory, he has been looking for a fight, with or without his parliament's support. Form what we can gather he's been drumming up a strict off the books army of thugs and mercenaries under parliaments nose. Anyways, we are expecting a fight coming from them so we are just playing careful anyways.

"I'm not as surprised a-" John was cut off abruptly.

"Oh shit, he's back," Laurens intervenes pointing to the space behind him, his face totally deadpan. 'What do we do now?"

"Talk to him, Laurens," exhaustion setting back in. "Nicely."

"Ahh…." John trails off, collecting his thoughts for a moment before diving in. "Sir, if there is anything we can do for you, or if there is anything you have to tell us then please speak and say so. Especially if it's going to make this entire situation less weird in which case that would be greatly appreciated." John and John waited to see if the ghost would say anything, when he didn't Laurens continued. "Even if it's just a prophecy about the future of this country, that would be cool too."

Just then when it looked as if the ghost would say something, anything, a rooster crowed in the distance, and so left the ghost once more.

"Saved by the cock," Laurens so helpfully adds.

"Thanks, John," Jay rubbed his nose tiredly.

Laurens hums appreciatively, "you know, this night has been very weird and I'll be honest I don't know what to do with this new information, so I think I'm just going to pawn this little problem onto Alex. His dead dad, his problem."

For once John couldn't find problem with this logic but that just might be him wanting Laurens gone as soon as possible. "Yes, that does seem like a good course of action."

After a brief exchange of goodbyes Laurens finally leaves and John is left to finish his shift in peace.


	2. Act I Scene ii (Part 1)

Thomas sits at the head of the Throne Room, which had been stripped of its previous black silks now was filled with auspicious, white satins and enough American flags to hang on the door of every house in Virginia. Below him stands all the nobles of the court watching in fervent anticipation. Just how he likes it (ignoring the lurking, black gremlin in the shadows of the room). After all, yesterday had been the day of his wedding to his former sister-in-law, now wife, Martha, who sits by his side. Today, he ascends the throne as king. Thomas stands and begins the show.

"Honored friends, family, and everyone else, we thank you all for joining us today on this joyful occasion. We know that the death of King George Washington is still fresh in our hearts, but, at times we must break a few eggs to make the omelette of our Nation." Thomas begins with a good meaning grin. "We shall continue on our great path; in remembrance of those behind us, while still looking towards the future. In steps toward a new and more peaceful future We call upon Ambassadors…" Shit. What were their names again? Thomas glances at the smudged writing on his hand, "Lafayette du Motier and Henry Michigan. We send you on a diplomatic mission to England to deliver this letter to the English Congress in good faith that they will speak to the King." Thomas finishes with a winning smile.

The two men step forward and bow before Henry speaks, "Actually, your Majesty, my name is Hercules Mulligan." Shit.

Lafayette continues off, "I'm already an Ambassador for France, and you should know that." He gave Thomas an incredulous look. Double shit.

Thomas's hands start sweating. "Yes, of course I knew that…." he trails off. What the fuck should he say now?

Lafayette seems to take pity on him, and brushes it off, "You know what? Don't worry about it. Hercules will do a fine job by himself."

Eager to jump on the chance to get out of that conversation, Thomas quickly agrees and hands the letter to Hercules who takes it gingerly. "Set forward, good sir, and deliver that to England."

With that, Hercules gives one last bow and leaves the room. Welp, that is at least one matter of business finished. On to the next. "Now, as I understand, dear Angelica, you wished for council?"

Angelica steps forward from where she had been standing with her sisters and father, her pink dress swaying with her steps, before stopping in a bow in front of him. "Yes, your Majesty, I wish your favour for me to leave and attend university in France."

Why the fuck would she come to him for this? Is this something that the King has to decide? To say Thomas was confused would be an understatement but seeing how this was not necessarily a good time to stop and ask questions to his wife, he moves onto the next best thing. He zeros in on her father and trusted advisor, who was frantically shaking his head at the back of the room. "I have no problem with this so long as your father is in agreement." There. You can never go wrong with "Go ask your dad."

James grimaces and glowers at him. Angelica turns fully and gives her father an expectant look.

"Father," she states warningly, "remember what mother said?" To his credit, James does not sulk back but instead stands his ground against whatever his wife had threatened him with.

"I have no problem with this." Or not.

Thomas gives a charmed smile, and declares the matter over and court dismissed. As the court clears, he scans for his next target and begins making his way over to the shit disturber in the corner of the room, with Martha at his side.

"Alexander, my son-"

Alex immediately cuts him off, "Don't flatter yourself, we are barely the same species." Ahh, there it is, the inescapable irritation that comes with having any sort of conversation with this little shit head.

"Alexander," Martha cuts in, "I know you miss your father but do you really need to wear all this black? It's kind of downing the mood of, well, everything." Which was true as the brat had decided to show up to the wedding in the exact same outfit he has worn everyday for the last month, pure black mourning clothes. "It was bound to happen at one point, darling, it's how life works. I know you know this, we had this conversation every time one of your hamsters died."

Alex seems to swell at that, "Philip was a treasured part of this family and nothing will ever replace him!" Except for the other seven hamsters he had, including a second one with the name Philip, but apparently Alex had not been thinking about that. "Besides that, mother, nothing I can wear will ever represent just how black my soul is. Nothing that I show –no tear, no forced breath, nothing– will ever truly show how much I grieve for my father. Those at which things a man can act will never show what's within."

Thomas only barely avoids rolling his eyes at the boy in front of him. "Look, Alexander, that is very sweet that you love your dad so much, but…" Thomas squats down so he is eye level with Alex. "Don't you think it's time to grow some balls and start being a man? Everyone's dad dies at one point, you're not a special snowflake. But if your dad is what's spirling you into this unmanly show of emotions then take note, as I view you as a son to me." Like hell he does. "Now in terms of your desire to return to France for your studies, don't you think you're needed here? You are next in line for the throne after all," Thomas finishes with a patronizing smile.

Alexander begins to almost vibrate next to him, hands clenching. Is that normal behaviour of twenty year olds or is he on some bad trip?

Martha takes the initiative to begin speaking just as Alex opens his mouth. "Alex, sweetheart, please I want you to stay here with me."

Alex stops for a moment and begrudgingly looks at his mother. He grits out, "If that is what you wish, mother, then I will stay here."

Thomas cuts in, "Such a touching scene of mother and son love. But with that, my dearest," Thomas grabs Martha's hands, "let's go celebrate our marriage."

Yelling directly out to the guards and anyone still in the room, "for every shot we drink, a cannon will fire as per tradition states!" Thomas leads her out of the room to get shit faced.


	3. Act I Scene ii (Part 2)

Alexander stands in the Throne Room as he watches the remaining sycophants of the court follow out after the king. Slowly, he makes his way to his bedroom, glowering at anyone who looks his way. Once in the safety of his room, he face-flops onto his bed and breathes into his sheets. He imagines about death so much it almost feels like a memory. The world is bleak and meaningless, and nothing is good. It's just one big garden overrun with weeds and lost hopes.

Rage began bubbling in Alex. His own father, the Great King Washington, simply discarded as though he was some trash to be thrown away. He was such a loving man. He was so good to mother. In fact, Alexander could remember times when his father went as far as removing his coat to protect his mother from the wind and rain. That being said, he had left Alexander to get soaked but that was beyond the point. His mother too, she would just hang off her father and look at him with such adoring eyes. The sames eyes she now looks at Thomas Jefferson. That fucking bag of dicks. It hasn't even been a fucking month and his mother has already gotten remarried, a fucking gold digger would have at least the decency to mourn longer. Honestly, Thomas is about as alike to his father as Alex was to Hercules. Which was to say not at all. Alex scoffs and rolls over in bed. The worst part was that he couldn't even speak out at this borderline incestious marriage that nothing good can come from, because it was his own mother for God sake.

Before Alex's train of thought could spiral any darker, his door was kicked open and a blurry streak bounced into the room and flew onto his bed. In the process elbowing him in the gut and kicking his shin.

"What's up, you depressed bastard?" John's boisterous voice seemed to echo through the room. Wearily, John Jay walked in behind him giving a semi-nervous look to the Crown Prince wheezing on the bed next to his all too pleased friend.

Alex slowly props himself on the bed. "John? What the fuck are you doing here? I'd say sit down but it seems you have already taken the liberty yourself."

"Well, naturally," John starts rolling over so he was virtually on top of Alex, "I ran away from school."

Alex sits fully on the bed shoving John over. "Mr. Jay, I'm glad to see you're well," he said, nodding firmly towards John Jay before turning his attention back to Laurens. "I knew you were going to leave one day, John, I just thought it would be in handcuffs."

"Alex, my dearest friend, a true artist sufferers for their work," John states straight faced.

"Are you talking about that time you brewed your coffee with three _5 Hour Energys_ and went to write your Art Theory exam only to vomit halfway through the test? Or that time you got Samuel Seabury to drive you to your dealer's house only to shove him under the bus when the RAs confronted you about the drugs?"

John was silent for a few seconds. "You know what, Alex? I didn't come here to be called out."

"Then why did you come, John?" Alex asks, still snickering to himself.

John holds eye contact for a moment before dropping his gaze, "I came for the funeral."

Alexander gritted his teeth, he speaks quickly, his tone harsh, "Don't fucking lie to me, John, you came for the wedding, didn't you?

"Yeah," John agrees, eyes downcast, "it was pretty sick."

Alex stands suddenly, his eyes blazing. "Yeah, sick is one word you could use. They could have used the same cold cuts from the funeral. My father's dead, John," the fight seems to leave Alex, "but you know, sometimes I still think I see him." He had no need to be argue with John. As loud as he may be, it was good seeing him.

John looks up at him, eyes widening. "You've seen him? Where?"

Alex looks at him confused, "What? In my dreams. It's just a saying."

"Oh, well, he was a really good guy," John pauses for a second, "you have seen Undercover Boss, right? Well you know how the boss goes undercover and watches how their shitty employees operate, right? So consider this: your dad. He's doing this."

"What the fuck?" This wasn't Alex who spoke but John Jay who was still standing in the entry of the room. Granted, Alex was in full agreement with the bone-weary soldier as he has, for once, no fucking clue what John was talking about.

John seems to pick up on the fact that he wasn't being understood and tries again, "Your dad. He's been appearing as a ghost to the soldiers on the castle grounds. I saw him last night."

Alex stares at John for a moment, who just looks at him expectantly, then to John Jay who was nodding. No, really, thought Alex, what the fuck? John didn't look like he was high, well neither of them, for that matter really did. But they couldn't be serious, could they?

"My dad? You saw my dad last night, in the courtyard?" Alex clarifies.

"Yep," John affirms, popping the P.

Alex lets out a deep sigh, deciding to play along. Maybe they were trying to help him through his grief in some weird roleplay. "Alright, what did he look like?"

"Like your fucking dad, you idiot." What did Alex see in John again? "He was dressed in his military outfit fatigues, had that old gun he carried around for no reason strapped to his waist and everything. Hell he even gave _me_ the disappointed Dad look he always gave you when you brought me around. Alex, it was him," John states with force.

He has to be fucking with him, Alex grimaces. "You're fucking with me."

John Jay steps forward, rubbing his face with his hands, "Your Highness, as unlikely as it may sound, we promise we are not making this up. He comes by every night, always in the exact likeness as he was the day he died."

Still not quite believing what he was hearing, Alex shakes his head slowly. "You said he comes by every night?"

"That's right, sir," Jay agrees with a heavy sigh.

"Then stand guard tonight, and I'll come see it for myself," Alex decides before tacking on, "make sure you don't spread this around, alright?" The last thing he needs is making the palace think he's crazy.

"Of course, Your Highness. I'll be taking my leave." Jay gives a stiff bow and makes his way out of the door.

John stands from where he was sitting beside Alex. "I better get going. My father wanted to see me two days ago and I don't think he will let me in the house tonight if I avoid him any longer," John said apologetically, "but I'll definitely see you tonight for the rager in the Courtyard." John bumps Alex on the shoulder with a fist before walking over to the door, giving a dramatic bow and leaving. Alex is alone in his room once again. A ghost dad, huh? Alex muses, not the weirdest thing John has put him through.


	4. Act I Scene iii

Eliza, despite what her father and sisters may say, wasn't an innocent little girl. This really made listening to Angelica's "Big Sister Life Tips" a little more than tedious. It certainly didn't help that most of those "Tips" were to stay away from Alexander.

"Now, Eliza, I know he can be very endearing and suave. If you let it him he'll sweep you right off your feet, but you must stay strong. That boy doesn't have an ounce of reliability,and he especially won't commit to anything. He will never be satisfied." Angelica states sternly, looking her sister in the eye. "So, promise me, you'll stay away from him alright?"

Eliza rolled her eyes at her sister for the fourth time in 2 minutes, "Yes Angelica, I'll stay away from the big bad, Crown Prince."

Angelica puffed out her chest, "This isn't a joke Eliza. I don't want to see you get hurt. I know you like him, but look at it this way. He's a Prince, and the only claim to fame we have is that our father's a chief advisor to the King. We aren't nobility, not really. When he makes decisions, he has to make them for the well being of the country. You must know that he will have to marry nobility at some point. Even if he says he loves you, and he might even be telling the truth; where will that leave you? As a mistress to use as he likes? It's better for you to just wipe your hands of him, Eliza, and keep your purity whole. It might hurt for a bit, but it will keep you from true heartbreak later on."

Jesus Christ, she thought Angelica would never stop. "You know, dearest sister," Eliza begins sweetly, "I hear what you're saying, I really do, but don't you think you should take your own advice before trying to give me any? I know how you too had a fling a while back and how you rebounded onto Aaron Burr. _Aaron Burr_."

Angelica scowls at her. Good, take that. Peggy who had been silent up until this point, gestures behind Elizabeth. "Hello, daddy."

James nears his daughters. "Angelica. Eliza. Peggy. My three favourite girls."

Peggy laughs, "What about mom?"

"Oh, her too." James adds.

Of course he would forget about mom, Eliza wasn't even surprised. It's not like they haven't been arguing like cats and dogs for the past week about allowing Angelica to go to France.

"Before you go, Angelica, I just thought I would give some fatherly advice."

Yeah, sure, that's what you're doing. Angelica seems agree with her disdain as she just gave a noncommittal, "uh-huh."

James claps his daughter on the shoulder, "You know I am in full support of you and your education. So, I thought I would give you some advice from my own days abroad."

Angelica gives another, "uh-huh."

Not discouraged their father continued on. "Don't speak your thoughts without thinking them through, and most especially don't give any thoughts, action-"

Peggy spoke up then, "Daddy, are you telling us you got in fights in University?"

James gave a look that resembled a deer in headlights before sputtering out, "I-I did not, and I will take that to court."

Eliza held back a derisive snort. Right, so he definitely did.

"Moving on," James picked right up. "Be convenial, but not vulgar. It's good to be friendly just not so much as to put your own character at risk. Listen to what people have to say, but don't always comment and give voice. Always listen to people's opinions too, but don't actually give them any weight. Make sure you beware the unruly type, and avoid trouble. Do not look for it."

"Honestly, dad," Angelica cut-in, "who do you think I am?"

James gave her a firm look, "I know exactly who you are my dear. I raised you for the last 23 years. Stay away from shopping; don't buy what you don't need. You have very nice and expensive clothes as it stands already. I know because I am the one who bought you all of them. In regards to that, don't loan or borrow money; just don't be that person. And more than anything else, be true to who you are. Don't change yourself to fit what other people want you to be." James ends with a soft smile to his daughter, before his eyes widened comically and added on: "Also, stay away from men. All they will do is distract you from your studies."

Wow, that was really nice until he ruined it.

Angelica gave a soft laugh, and gave James a hug. "Alright, alright, I love you dad. I promise I will stay out of trouble, but I have to go soon before you think of another book to add on."

Angelica gave Eliza a hug and a squeeze on the shoulder before doing the same with Peggy. "I'll call all of you soon, and make sure you send mom my love." Grabbing her bags, she blew kisses to all of them as she strode from the room. Once she was gone Peggy made a beeline for her room, leaving Eliza alone with her dad.

"Eliza," her dad starts, "What did Angelica have to talk to you about?"

Eliza gives an elusive shrug before answering dismissively, "Just something to do with Prince Alexander." Her dad didn't need to be privy to this conversation.

James gives her a long look before answering, "I'm aware."

Eliza hesitates a second. What the hell did that mean? He's _aware_. "Then why ask?"

He let out a long sigh, "Eliza, I'm not here to play games, so I'm going to be as honest as I can be right now. Angelica has told me about your feelings for Prince Alexander."

That treacherous bitch. Eliza forces out a small laugh, "Is that so? Well it seems she's mistaken. I have no feelings for Alexander."

James narrows his eyes at her. "Is that so? That's good then, as it is my role as your father to ask you to stay away from him. So, please tell me what is really between the two of you?"

Eliza hesitates for a second, "he's just been very kind to me recently is all. Father, I swear." She thinks back to the other night when a letter came to her from Alexander. In it was a love letter along with pictures of his dick. Classy. He has her phone number and everything, he just chose to send it as a letter. A potentially dangerous letter considering that neither of her siblings respect privacy and will open letters that are not addressed to them.

"He's been kind? You're speaking like a little girl Eliza, do you really believe that he cares for you?"

So many pictures of his dick. She keeps having to find new places to put them. "I'm not sure what to think, dad."

James nods his head quickly, "Then I will tell you. Treat yourself better, don't just sell yourself off to the first man who will take you. You are worth more than that. You must know it will end in heartbreak for you; that's always how it is with the Prince. Set a higher price for yourself."

Eliza bristles. Set a higher price? What the hell did he think she was? Some type of prostitute? "Even if that man is a Prince? He treats me well."

" _Especially_ if that man's a prince." Her father responds with force. "He's ensnaring you my love. When men see something they like they will say anything to get what they want, especially entitled Princes. He'll use you and then cast you aside. Do yourself a favour; give yourself more credit than just taking his words at face value. Do not believe what he tells you, Eliza. All they are are pretty words to beguile you into bedding you. I don't want you talking to him anymore, do you understand?" her father finished.

As much as Eliza may not like it, she's can't directly go against her father's wishes. She wasn't Angelica. There was nothing she could do but just nod in assent to her father's command. This means she's going to have to return all the dick pics.


	5. Act I Scene iv

Notes: Thank you to everyone who has read and or reviewed, I light up when I get comments, I do have a break between exams now so maybe expect another chapter soon, but don't get to excited. Big Shout out to my BETA Justine!

Alexander approached the courtyard, his cheeks burning from the cold wind. Honestly, winter can suck his dick. Also, whatever this ghost shit is, that can suck his dick too. Alex slinks down deeper into his coat, trying to seek reprieve from the weather. Beside him, John seems virtually unbothered by the weather. Lucky bastard. Alex takes the chance to fully look at his friend for the first time since they met up outside the gates. Holy shit. He was literally only wearing a light windbreaker, shorts, and flipflops.

"John, aren't you cold?"

Laurens gives him the side eye, "My older sister told me I needed to put on warm clothes if I was going out so late."

Okay. Alex didn't see the problem with this, but if John's demeanor was anything to go by he did. "So…" Alex trailed off.

"So, it was a challenge!" John bursts.

"No, it was reasonable advice."

"I'm not even cold." Doubtfully, considering the fact that he keeps rubbing his nose every three seconds as if he had a bad snort, but pushing the issue would only serve to put John on the defensive, so Alex choses to respectfully mind his own business.

They neared John Jay, who was standing alone at his post.

"Good evening Mr. Jay. Where's your partner?" It seems to be a touchy subject if Jay's full bodied twitch of irritation is anything to go by.

"Good evening, Your Highness, Laurens. My partner called in sick, seems he had a bad case of cowardice," John bites out scathingly.

Alexander nods sagely. "I see. Well, what time does this ghost normally show up?"

"Twelve o'clock, sir"

Only a few minutes before the ghost was supposed to appear. Alexander lets his gaze flicker between the two Johns. What does one say in this situation? He didn't really know Jay that well, and it would be rude to start a conversation with Laurens without including Jay. Alex turns around and starts scanning the gardens, pretending to be invested in his surroundings, so as not to have to be pulled into awkward conversation.

The three men startle as the silence breaks by the booming of a cannon being fired.

John clutching his heart, sputters out a, "What the fuck?" While Jay tenses and reaches for his gun that was resting on his hip. Because really: what. The. Fuck.

"Your Highness," Jay began, "perhaps, you should go back inside―"

Alexander really wanted to. It was cold and waiting to see if his dead dad was going to show up as a ghost wasn't really his favourite thing to do. However, remembering a few hours prior, he put up his hand and waves away John's concern, as another cannon goes off in the distance. "It would seem his _ever esteemed_ majesty has decided to start getting the wine flowing tonight." John and John share a look at Alexander's sardonic tone and his heavy eye roll towards his father in law. Not that it bothered Alex. He wasn't about to hide his disdain for the man. If Alex had it his way everyone would know his disdain for the man.

Laurens shrugs, "I don't get it." Alex assumes he's talking about the cannons and not why he is so disdainful of Thomas, as the latter is a given.

Alex gives them a wry grin. "An old and nearly forgotten tradition states that everytime the King has a drink, the cannons must go off. We don't do it anymore because it's pretentious, stupid, and sullies the reputation of the American monarch, but..." Alexander pauses, looking Laurens in the eye, "I suppose that fits Thomas perfectly."

"Oooohhh, sick burn," John snickers, clapping Alexander on the shoulder.

 **BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.**

"In that case," John Jay starts, "it appears it's time for shots."

Alexander snorts, "Let me get my gun."

"Not that."

Laurens nods to something behind Alex, and drops his voice into something of a conspiratorial whisper, "Not to alarm you, but I found your dad."

Alex whips around. His eyes bulge. "No. Really? What the fuck." Before him stands his father, George, fucking Independance, Washington. Everything about him, looking exactly how ALex remembers from his worn shoes, pressed military outfit, the same pinched look that he always gets when he sees John with him. Despite himself, Alex could feel the tears begin to well up in his eyes and determinedly tries to blink them away. "Dad? Are you really here? Or is this some sort of bad trip?"

Wow, it really must be his dad. Alex doesn't think that anything else would be able to mirror that look of crushing disappointment that well.

Washington continues to stare despondent at his son.  
Alex tries again, "Is there something you needed…" A blank dead stare. "to say?" Alex offers, his voice a few octaves higher than usual.  
The ghost turns and beckons Alex to follow him.

"...Right." Not for the first time in Alexander's life, he has nothing to say.

Laurens finally steps forward. "He's your dead dad, ergo your responsibility, and from the looks of it he wants you to go alone."

John Jay whips around to glare at him. "No. Do _not_ suggest that the prince goes alone. That's how you die in horror movies!"

This seems like a good conversation for those two to figure out themselves, Alex thinks, following after his father, who was waiting at the end of the courtyard.

The Johns stop arguing and despite what Jay said, he made no attempt to stop Alex from going.

Laurens speaks up when Alex is halfway across the gardens, "This is a bad idea. Come back, Alex!"  
Alex rolls his eyes, because of course John, the one who suggested it, would change his mind. There was no going back now, Alex thought as his father deemed him close enough to keep walking.

John and John watched as the crown prince walked off the property, and into a nearby forest.

Laurens was distinctly aware of the glare that Jay was digging into the side of his skull. John Laurens felt a tug in his gut as an unsettling feeling of utter doom started nagging at him. He bit his lip before speaking out, "Consider this: that isn't the ghost of King Washington, but a demon that's set on destroying Alex? What if this is a bad thing, and not some weird sort of therapy thing that will let Alex move on from his death?"

John Jay took a moment's hesitation, before responding with a firm, but nonetheless disheartened, "We have to follow them, don't we?"

"Yeah," Laurens agrees. Once again, he looks to John Jay, who is already following Alexander's trail. Honestly, Jay looks so tired and fed up with everything and John can't help but agree because really, that's such a mood.


End file.
